


three times keiji thought about kissing koutarou, and one time he finally did

by broikawa



Series: percy's bokuaka week 2020 [6]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 3+1 Things, 5+1 Things, Akaashi Keiji Needs a Hug, Akaashi Keiji is Bad at Feelings, Almost Kiss, BokuAka Week 2020, Crying, Denial of Feelings, First Kiss, First Year Akaashi Keiji and Second Year Bokuto Koutarou, Friends to Lovers, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Internal Conflict, Late Night Conversations, Long-Distance Friendship, M/M, Post-Time Skip, Pro Volleyball Player Bokuto Koutarou, Repression, Requited Unrequited Love, Secret Crush, Sleepiness, Tokyo Nationals Arc (Haikyuu!!), University
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:48:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25734568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/broikawa/pseuds/broikawa
Summary: keiji knew how to accept opportunities. if only he could do the same with his feelingsor ;; bkak week day 6 - [5+1 things]
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Series: percy's bokuaka week 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1858111
Comments: 10
Kudos: 123
Collections: Bokuaka Week 2020





	three times keiji thought about kissing koutarou, and one time he finally did

**Author's Note:**

> i did three instead of five bc it fit better 人(_ _*) pls enjoy akaashi being in love feat. repression

-1

Keiji was in his first year of high school the first time he thought about kissing Koutarou.

Fukurodani Academy had supplied him with an okay amount of friends – a number large enough that he wouldn’t be considered a loner, but not large enough that anyone would label him as a social butterfly. They ate lunch together, and they sat around each other during class, and they met up in the mornings and parted ways in the evenings walking home. They did what young, teenage boys did and talked about what young, teenage boys talked about (though, Keiji didn’t typically contribute as much as his friends did).

His friends’ current favourite topic seemed to be a very simple thing: girls.

Keiji hated it.

He didn’t really hate talking about specific girls depending on the conversation’s subtopic (because he never wanted to say anything bad about anyone), and he had plenty of girl friends – girl, space, friends, emphasis on the space – but liking girls, wanting to be with girls, Keiji felt very excluded, like he was missing something.

There was, of course, always the option of hanging out with his friends on the volleyball team, but he didn’t feel close enough to anyone to ask them to eat with them, and the only time they really talked outside of practice was a quick hello if he happened to see anyone in the mornings on his way to class.

“So, Akaashi-kun,” a friend asked one lunch break, “are there any girls _you_ think are cute?”

Pardon the language, _okaa-san_ , but he wanted to get the fuck out of there.

The circle leaned in closer, anticipating his answer. Keiji sat and thought and thought of anything, anyone he could say to get them off of his back.

“Not really,” he said coyly. He felt like he was on fire.

“Oh, come on,” someone else said, “there has to be at least one, no?”

No, there was not at least one because there were zero. There was no one he was romantically interested in and, frankly, he didn’t feel like it was necessary. He was too focused on studying, too focused on volleyball, but considered his possible romantic interests.

The only person at school he might say he admired a little bit was Bokuto Koutarou, one year his senior, a promising boy on the volleyball team who’s skills often left Keiji in awe like he had the first time he saw him play.

And, sure, he could admit that Bokuto-san was more attractive than not, but that was objective – he was one of those people who was just good looking. Keiji didn’t like him like that, obviously, because Keiji was a boy and Bokuto-san was a boy and Keiji didn’t like other boys, not like that.

He was sure of that.

Was he?

Okay, maybe Keiji had thought about Bokuto-san as a friend, and as a _friend_ , once or twice but he’d never go as far as to say he _liked_ liked him, or that he wanted to kiss him or anything like that. He didn’t even know if Bokuto-san was a good kisser, and if he really wanted to know he’d probably have to find out himself because kissing skills were subjective and if he were to ask someone what kissing Bokuto-san was like (if such a person existed, because another piece of information Keiji didn’t have was whether or not Bokuto-san had even kissed anyone before in the first place), their answer would not be conclusive enough evidence to know whether or not Bokuto-san really knew how to kiss, and if Keiji knew anything, it was that you had to seize opportunities and find things out yourself.

Not that he ever would find himself with the opportunity to kiss Bokuto-san, and, if he was, he didn’t have any reason to kiss him in the first place.

Did he?

Wait.

What was he talking about again?

“Earth to Akaashi-kun?” a friend waved a hand in front of his face.

Keiji came back to reality.

“Thinking about that girl?” someone teased.

 _No_ , he thought, _I’m not thinking about a girl._

-2

It was after nationals that Keiji thought about kissing Koutarou again.

The last game. It had been the last game, and they’d lost.

The whole team was devastated, naturally, as they’d worked so hard to get to that point, and victory had been so, so close, but it was clear to Keiji – and, really, to everyone – that Bokuto-san was taking it the hardest.

Konoha-san came into the team’s room, concerned about just that. “Does anyone know where Bokuto went?” he asked.

They all looked at Keiji.

He sighed. “I’ll go find him.”

The team gave him comments of encouragement as he left the room – “This is why we love you,” and, “Akaashi-san to the rescue,” were among them – and he thought of the places where Bokuto-san could possibly be. He checked the washrooms, and the baths, and even went down to the lobby.

Eventually, he found him outside on the front steps of the building.

He stood on the step where he was sitting and looked down at him. “Bokuto-san, you should come inside,” he said. 

“I’m sorry, ‘Kaashi,” he said, ignoring his suggestion, “I lied to you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Bokuto-san.”

“I told you we were gonna win them all,” he said, “and we didn’t. It’s my fault.”

Keiji had anticipated something like this by the time they were leaving the stadium, but he’d never anticipated how seeing it would make himself feel. He knew what Bokuto-san was like when he was upset, but he was properly upset, genuinely upset, and he looked like he was going to cry. He needed to think of something to tell him, some way to make him feel better. He’d done it for a year, and he was going to do it again.

“Yes, it is,” he finally said.

“What–”

“It’s also my fault,” he continued, “and Konoha-san’s, and Komi-kun’s, and everyone.”

He sat down next to him.

“If you’re going to blame anyone, blame the whole team. We did this together, didn’t we?”

“I guess so…”

Silence fell after that.

They sat and watched as people walked by, as cars drove past. Keiji hadn’t brought a jacket with him, not expecting to be outside for very long. As he was about to ask if they should go in, he leaned his forehead on Keiji’s shoulder.

Keiji went completely still.

“Bokuto-san,” he said, “are you–”

Then, arms were wrapped around him, and Bokuto-san started to cry.

He was a very wet crier, Keiji observed quickly, his t-shirt becoming damp with tears within a minute. He was definitely not the greatest when dealing with people crying, not even the greatest at dealing with himself crying, so he wasn’t quite sure what to do. Carefully, he moved his arms around his shoulders, holding him closer.

His mouth was very, very close to his neck.

He thought about kissing him.

Then he didn’t.

He felt selfish for wanting to, selfish for even thinking about it, and maybe if this were a different time, a different place, a different circumstance, he would let himself do it, he would let himself do something just because he wanted to.

But this was not about him.

This was about Bokuto-san.

About Koutarou.

Koutarou, who was in his arms. Koutarou, who was crying. Koutarou, who was doubting himself the most that Keiji had ever seen. Koutarou, the one who was supposed to bring up everyone around him. Their captain, _his_ captain.

His friend.

His...

“Akaashi,” Bokuto-san said, his voice wet from the tears. He sat up, but kept his head on Keiji’s shoulder.

“Hm?”

“Don’t call me Bokuto-san anymore.”

 _Oh_.

“What do you want me to call you?” he asked, his voice unsure.

“You can call me Koutarou, if you want.”

 _This is your chance, Keiji_ , he thought, _to do something selfish. To do something just because you want to. The opportunity is sitting right in front of you. Seize it._

“Okay,” he said, “Koutarou.”

-3

He was in his second year of university the next time Keiji thought about kissing Koutarou.

His friends had dragged him out to a party that night, not too far from campus, but it had felt years away as he made the commute back. He really hadn’t wanted to go in the first place, as it was a night that, for the first time in a while, he didn’t have as much work to do. Sure, his classes were tough, but he’d kept up enough that he’d created a night for himself that wouldn’t have him hunched over his desk until two in the morning, and he was more than excited to have an evening to himself.

“But Akaashi-kun, it’s going to be so fun!” one of his friends had told him. “I promise, I won’t leave you alone.”

Keiji had a hard time letting his friends down.

His friends, apparently, weren’t entirely the same, as he was left alone quite soon after they’d arrived, leaving him to find a spot in the corner of the room and pretend to look interested. He would’ve left right then and there, but he knew his friends, knew they were going to drink, and didn’t have the heart to leave them.

Kindness was an asshole sometimes.

Now, hours later, he returned to his dorm room, tired, upset, and with a horrible headache. He was grateful to have a room of his own, as he wasn’t sure what he would do if he had to talk to another person anytime in the following few hours.

Well, except for one person.

 _Koutarou_ , he messaged, _are you awake?_

He got a reply almost immediately.

 _Yep ^^_ , he said, _what’s up?_

 _I’m going to call you_.

They did this sometimes.

One of them would be upset and call the other, they would talk it out (or not, as sometimes they just didn’t want to be alone for a while), they would both feel better, and they would hang up.

Keiji never wanted to do that last part.

What Koutarou didn’t know about their call-talk-feel better routine was that Keiji spent the whole call thinking about being next to him instead. They were both in Tokyo, but still resided quite far away, and neither one could often find time for a day trip to visit the other. Their time was spent on the phone, often late into the night, and Keiji’s time was spent thinking about being beside one another, talking this out in person instead.

The line connected. “Hey,” said Koutarou.

“Hey,” said Keiji.

He loved hearing his voice.

“You okay?” he asked. He had music on in the background. It sounded like lo-fi – Koutarou didn’t listen to lo-fi, but he knew Keiji did.

He exhaled. “Not really.”

“I hope this helps you, then,” he said, an unusually bright tone for nearly one in the morning.

“Why are you up?” he asked. “It’s late for you, isn’t it?”

“I can’t sleep,” he said. “You?”

He explained the party, and his friends, and his headache. Koutarou yawned a few times as he listened – it was very unlike him to be up at that hour and Keiji, in the back of his mind, was concerned.

“They don’t sound like very good friends,” he told him when he was finished.

“They’re okay,” he said, “just a bit more extroverted than I am.”

Koutarou yawned again.

“Do you want to hang up and go to bed?” he asked him.

“No, um…” he paused. The static of the call and the muffled sound of music filled Keiji’s ears. “Could we stay on tonight?” Koutarou finally asked.

They did this sometimes, too.

Falling asleep together was reserved for high emotional distress only (or whenever one of them felt like it, really. The requirements for it were slowly falling away), but Keiji went into high emotional distress every time it happened simply because he was so overwhelmed by his feelings for his friend. The experience made him feel so vulnerable – sleeping around people had never been something he enjoyed, but, as with everything, it was so different with Koutarou.

He loved it.

He wanted to do it every night.

“Sure,” he said. Koutarou hummed, delighted.

He laid down, shutting off his lamp, and heard Koutarou doing the same.

“Keiji?” he said a few moments later. His voice was soft, and it was quiet, and Keiji had to guess that there were very few people who had ever heard him speak like that.

“Hm?”

“Goodnight,” he said.

He let himself smile. “Goodnight,” he said in return.

With the lights out and the sound of Koutarou’s breathing coming through his headphones, it felt like he was there with him.

He wanted to kiss him so badly.

It just felt _right_ – the both of them tired, their soft _goodnight_ s to each other, the halfway-asleep noises coming through each end of the line. A kiss would’ve just felt so natural, at least in Keiji’s mind. One last thing to end the night with, one last thing to really send Keiji off to sleep.

He stayed up for a while longer, on accident, listening to Koutarou’s breathing and his music and his eventual soft snores (at which point he nearly had a heart attack because, _oh my god, can he get any cuter?_ ) before eventually drifting off.

+1

Keiji thought about kissing Koutarou many times after that, and he nearly did years later.

They were both thriving career wise, which called for uncertain and mismatched schedules. Time together was less frequent than both of them wanted, but they appreciated what time they did spend together as much as they could.

Keiji, especially, savoured every second of it.

He felt childish almost, still having feelings for Koutarou all these years and never acting on them. After he’d graduated university, he’d had work to worry about, he didn’t have time for a relationship. It took up even more of his time than school had, with new projects every week, the stress of his deadlines.

He hated it, that he’d never said anything, that he always gave himself excuses as to why he couldn’t. He had waited all this time, spent all these years staying in contact with him, to only ever stay quiet about the matter.

Not only did he savour every second with him, he loathed himself while he did it.

At least they’d been able to have dinner after Koutarou’s game.

Standing outside after their meal, they said their goodbyes. “You did really well today,” Keiji said.

Koutarou smiled. “You told me that a few times tonight,” he laughed.

“Well, you did,” he said, his face warming.

Someone was walking towards the door, so Keiji moved out of the way to let them pass. He was now standing closer to Koutarou, and while he considered moving back to where he was standing before, he decided against it and stayed where he was.

He was close – he could kiss him if he wanted.

He really wanted to.

“So,” said Koutarou, looking down at his shoes, “you’re going back to Tokyo tomorrow?”

“Yeah, in the morning,” he said.

“Oh,” he said, “okay.”

“Why do you ask?”

“I was just gonna ask if you wanted to do something in the morning,” he told him, “since I don’t have anything until later.”

To kiss him or to not kiss him, to stay or to go – Keiji was supposed to be good and making decisions, considering how much he analyzed his own actions to figure out what the best course to take was, but any decision that involved Koutarou made his head go fuzzy, made him uneasy like anything could happen, made him stop thinking about what would be convenient and start thinking about what would make him _happy_.

He considered his options carefully, as he always did, but it was hard to factor in his own desires, like they were an override of the perfect formula he’d created in his head to deal with decision making.

He wanted to stay, that was obvious enough. But, he had work tomorrow, and he had some things that needed to get down. _But_ , he could always take tomorrow off and get it done at home. That could put him behind, though, if it didn’t get done.

What was more important? His work? Or his feelings?

He had to put his feelings aside.

“I can’t,” he told him. He could feel a voice in his head yelling at him, and another sighing in relief.

Koutarou smiled again, though this one had something behind it. “That’s okay,” he said. “Maybe next time.”

Keiji looked up at him, their eyes meeting, and he could physically feel the small distance between them.

He really could kiss him if he wanted to.

It’d be so easy, just a small tip up of his head, a small push forward. Koutarou, too, looked down at Keiji’s mouth, something in his eyes telling Keiji that _hey, I want this, too_.

Keiji took a step back.

“I should get going,” he said suddenly, sudden to even himself.

“Right,” Koutarou said, stiff, “yeah.”

“Okay.”

“Cool.”

“I’ll see you, then.”

“Yep.”

He walked away in horror.

That was so _stupid_.

 _Fuck_ , Keiji thought. _Fuck!!!_

He should’ve just kissed him, should’ve just faced his feelings and done it. He’d been pushing his feelings aside all night and he wasn’t sure if he was going to last much longer. He felt like a balloon full of so much air it could pop at any second. It was so clear that Koutarou wanted to as well – Keiji saw it in his face – and yet, he _didn’t_. The rest of the night was going to be spent yelling at himself for not doing anything and, he suspected, the rest of the week could look the same.

Then, he heard him.

“Keiji!” Koutarou shouted, running up to him. “Wait!”

He stopped and turned around, watching Koutarou approach him.

Was he getting a second chance? That didn’t happen very often.

He took a step in Koutarou’s direction, then another, and another and another and another. When they met, they stood even closer than they had been before.

“I’m sorry,” Koutarou said quickly, like he was trying to get the words out faster than he could talk.

“Me, too,” Keiji said.

“Can I–”

“Yes.”

If Keiji knew anything, it was that you had to seize opportunities and find things out yourself. He was more than glad to find out that Koutarou was a good kisser, and a very good one at that.

**Author's Note:**

> *bases their phone call scene after how i feel being on the phone w my boyfriend bc im emotional and i love him*
> 
> my [promo post](https://adrientheodorepercival.tumblr.com/post/625640895773032448/three-times-keiji-thought-about-kissing-koutarou)
> 
> tumblrs  
> etherealparrish (main)  
> ohmyhoneybun (lovecore/mlm)  
> historicalsgnificance (dark academia/studyblr)  
> adrientheodorepercival (writeblr)


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